


poetry lunedream and the dramatis infurnace

by zero



Series: The Rude Awakening of Poetry Lunedream [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:12:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero/pseuds/zero
Summary: poetry is hot under the collar because of saucy gossip through the grapevine. she has a meltdown at a party and needs to get out of there. inspired by true events!





	poetry lunedream and the dramatis infurnace

oh, she can feel the flames licking hotly all about her,  
oah, she can feel the anxiety and the nervousness festering in her gut  
her nerves are nervous

poetry lunedream feels her skin become the skin of a 21 year old again, which brings with it a certain affect, a nihilism, an impulsivity, a chaos to the self. she yearns for moisture in the heat of the summer, and it has been a long summer. she hopes winter will come soon

who are dolphin and eagle? dolphin and eagle are gamer girls that find themselves wrapped up in their obsessions with video games. they go to conventions and trade shows for video games, they hoard a wealth of carts and plastic, wires. they bicker and moan and scrape together a living off their youtube shows. poetry lunedream is on social media. dolphin and eagle have way more followers than she does, but at what cost? at what cost...?

strangely, in her benjamin-button-esque swinging from youth to old age, phasing into wrinkles or ghostly rhythms to fresh youth, she can never recapture her teen years. her memory on it is hazy, and it seems lost to her. she is also never a little girl. sometimes she dreams of being young again, or when she was young. childhood memories blur together into a slurry, a haze, and synthpop plays on her phone as she walks to the store in the dust of the earth. she has one foot in the grave and another squarely in the prime of life. its a strange way to be, but they say in art you should show not tell, so here goes

lately among the coolkids and the skaters and the haters theres been needless dramatics and moanings, as if she was in high school. poetry is your standard college dropout. "i dropped out because im too cool for school" -poetry lunedream. but somehow, even when she thinks shes out of the shit, the shit reaches out its nasty hand, and grabs her like kong, pulling her back into the inferno. everyone talking shit on everyone. everyone craving dank and nasty turmoil. everyone throwing shade in the alley. everyone hurling insults and breaking apart and fusing together. its enough to make you sick. poetry lunedream finds out filthy rumors have been spread about her and hurls in a gutter on the way home

poetry: i dont feel good  
echa: *flustered, doesnt know what to say, cant say anything because of the mysterious mechanical lock on her throat, the key to which has been lost*  
poetry: why did they say that about me? nobody knows! they just dont know! im freaking out. i feel so unloved. my mind is a melting pot. i need a soothing tea. i need a hot shower. im going insane  
echa: *glances at camera*

that pulsing synth in the club and the sweat rising from partygoers makes her fly into a panic, and the street. its hot. its so flipping hot. its an inferno of sweat, of tears, of laughter, crying. she manages to get away. shes in the park. lots of leafy green trees and wild dogs snuffling into the shadows. as she runs she hears metallic footsteps in the distance... she keeps running. how can you live like this, knowing what people say, knowing they stare into your soul in your darkest hour, your most private moment. flaring up like a fire, erupting like a volcano

later, shed make the phone call  
poetry: dolphin... are you there *twists phone cord flirtaciously, coyly*  
eagle: yeah dolphins in the middle of an epic frag match at call of duty ww2 but i can chat  
poetry: i just got back from the club. im feeling lonely  
eagle: *sweating* did you... uh... drink some water?  
poetry: yeah. i spilled it on my shirt. everything is hot so i took a cold bath. i feel neurotic and tense  
eagle: you can come over here if you want. what happened  
poetry: people spread a rude rumor about me and it compounded and now everyones talking in the twilight, in the distance  
eagle: oh i heard about that. well, we dont judge here at, uh, i guess "gamer house" as we call it, but it does seem a bit scandalous. im sure its nothing. you should lay low for a while. i dont think youre an evil person. i think everyone has evil thoughts, and theres a difference between someone who ideates about evil because of mental illness and actual criminals who act on their severe disabilities, and even actual criminals are capable of reform. i had to read foucaults "discipline and punish" for a class in college before i dropped out, so i know about these things, but will probably forget about it later on. it just comes to mind right now.  
poetry: what  
poetry: brb let me put on something less revealing. you can see my tits right through this mac tonite nightgown. im so predictable lol  
poetry: im really drunk by the way. hope thats not a problem  
eagle: *sweating*


End file.
